Carly's Gift (18 page)

Now Andrea really didn't know what to say.

“With a minimum of effort on both of our parts,” Victoria went on, “we should be able to stay nicely out of each other's way.”

If Andrea had been hoping for more, Victoria plainly had not. It was obvious she believed she'd gone further than called for in making her husband's daughter welcome. “I'll try,” Andrea told her.

“I'm pleased to hear it,” she said with a slight nod.

David came back into the room. “The coffee will be here in a minute,” he said and smiled.

Andrea returned his smile, picked up her fork, and took a bite of sausage.

It was awful.

Fifteen

Carly gathered the
last of the stray pieces of wrapping paper and ribbon left over from the morning of opening Christmas presents and stuffed them into a paper bag. Her hands were trembling from a mixture of fatigue, frustration, sorrow, and repressed anger. She knew of three text messages from her, another half dozen from Shawn and Eric and Ethan, and not one reply.

Ethan had been outside with Shawn and Eric for the past hour and a half, all of them trying out their new cross-country skis. Eric had made a halfhearted attempt to get her to join them, but she'd begged off, saying if she didn't get the turkey in the oven, they wouldn't be eating until midnight. He hadn't pushed, just given her a quick kiss and a quiet, “It wasn't the same without Andrea, huh?” before he headed out the door.

For days the muscles in her throat had ached from the effort to hold back tears. She'd been so sure Andrea wouldn't be able to stay away for Christmas. When she'd gotten out of bed that morning, and it had seemed as if her grief would choke her, she'd stepped into the shower and finally let go of some of the pent-up heartache. The rest of the morning had been spent with a stuffed-up nose and a raging headache.

Since the day they'd all seen Andrea off at the airport, Barbara had shadowed Carly, popping up with small surprises at unexpected times of the day, calling first thing in the morning and insisting Carly accompany her shopping, sending Wally by in the patrol car to check on her in the afternoon.

Barbara and Wally were more than shoulders to lean on, they were the only ones Carly could really talk to about Andrea. At home, it didn't matter whether it was Carly or the boys who mentioned Andrea's name, the effect was the same. Ethan would immediately get up and leave the room, a look of sadness about him that gave Carly pause. It didn't take long for Shawn and Eric to catch on that they were not to talk about their sister when their father was around.

Instead of Shawn and Eric coming to Carly with their questions and feelings of abandonment, it was as if Andrea's leaving had left a gap they were each trying to fill in isolation. Eventually, anger became their weapon against sorrow. Carly could see little else to do but wait them out. Shawn and Eric were loving and forgiving people. They only needed for their pain to ease a little to rediscover the ties that bound them to their sister.

Ethan was another matter. He would not allow himself to miss Andrea until he saw that her leaving was not the path to the marital bliss he envisioned.

The doorbell rang, startling Carly and yanking her back to the present. She ran her hand through her hair and tucked a strand behind her ear as she headed for the door. Wanda Starling, her next-door neighbor, greeted her with a beaming grin.

“Merry Christmas,” Carly said, shivering at the cold blast of air. She moved out of the doorway. “Come in before you freeze to death out there.”

“I can't stay,” Wanda said, stamping the snow from her boots before stepping inside. “I just wanted to give you this.” She handed Carly a homemade fruitcake wrapped in cellophane and topped with a sprig of evergreen. “And this,” she said, reaching inside her coat and withdrawing a large, plump envelope. “The courier service delivered it to our house by mistake yesterday and Ed signed for it without even looking to see who it belonged to. You'd think we get this kind of thing all the time. Anyway, wouldn't you know, he forgot to tell me about it until this morning. I hope it's nothing important.”

Carly's heart skipped a beat as she set the fruitcake on the hall table and took the envelope. The return address said London. “Thank you,” she said.

“From Andrea?”

Carly nodded.

“Well, isn't that nice. I'll bet Christmas morning just wasn't the same around here without her. Too bad she couldn't have waited until the holidays were over before taking off to live with her new father, but then that's so typical of this generation. They don't know what it's like to wait for anything. Instant gratification, that's what it's all about.”

Carly was frantic to open the letter. Other than the phone call when Andrea had arrived two weeks ago, it was the first communication they'd had from her. Carly had sent several, long, rambling emails filled with bits of gossip and news of home. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” Carly asked, silently praying Wanda would decline.

“Thanks, but I've still got a couple of pies to make.”

“I appreciate you taking the time to run this over.” And then, as an afterthought, “The boys will be especially happy to see the fruitcake. I didn't get much baking done this year.”

“That's not surprising, what with all you've had on your mind.” She stepped outside and turned for one last thought. “If you ever need someone to talk to, Carly, I'm just next door.”

“I'll remember,” she said.

“Merry Christmas.”

“To you, too,” Carly said, for the first time that day believing it was possible.

As she closed the door, she was torn between waiting for Ethan and the boys to come inside or opening the envelope now while she could do so in privacy. It didn't take long to decide. She ran her finger along the flap on her way into the family room.

Inside was a letter along with a flat, soft package wrapped in Christmas paper and tied with a silver ribbon. Carly ignored the present and studied Andrea's handwriting on the letter. She took note of the uncanceled stamps and looked again on the outside of the package. David had made out the bill of lading. Plainly Andrea had intended to send the letter surface mail and David had been the one who arranged for it to arrive sooner. Andrea had written notes in cards, but as far as Carly knew this was her first real letter written on paper. She understood why, and resisted the urge to feel hurt. At least she was communicating, even if the form was as alien to her as a tape deck. Eventually, there would be the immediacy of emails and text messages. For now any communication would do.

Being careful not to destroy the perfectly good stamps, Carly opened the envelope and unfolded the two sheets of crisp parchment stationery.

Dear Mom and Dad and Shawn and Eric,

It seemed like the plane ride over would last forever but I finally got here and I haven't stopped doing things since. I've only been here nine days and already I've gone to three parties, seen the Tower of London, Big Ben, and Harrods department store. (We don't shop there—Victoria thinks there are too many tourists—but it was fun to see anyway. It's HUGE!) David told me there would be lots of royal people at the parties, but I didn't see any of them. Or if I did, I didn't know who they were.

Oh, by the way, Mom, you can stop worrying about Victoria. She's being really nice to me. The first day I was here, she bought me all new clothes. She was worried I wouldn't fit in if I wasn't dressed like everyone else. Which meant no bargain jeans, but really expensive stuff, like leather skirts and matching jackets and silk blouses and a really neat coat called a Barbour Thornproof to wear when we're in the country. I also had to get uniforms for the school I'll be going to.

Shawn and Eric, you wouldn't believe what the school is like. It's at least a thousand years old and it's all girls—I suppose you'd like that, but I'm not so sure I will. David said he looked at a bunch of schools, but liked this one the best because it has the most American kids and it wouldn't be so hard for me to get to know everyone.

School is really different here. Everyone takes a big test when they're sixteen, and if you don't want to keep on going, you don't have to. (Victoria said that's what Princess Di did, so it's not like you're considered a dropout or anything.) College is only three years over here unless you decide to do something that takes longer, like being a doctor. I like that.

Carly felt as if a cold hand had been laid against her spine. The letter was light and breezy and completely out of sync with the turmoil that was really going on in Andrea's life. And why had David gone to such lengths to find just the right school for Andrea when the whole idea was to get her to come home as quickly as possible?

Tomorrow is David's birthday. Victoria is having a big party for him with lots of famous people. As soon as it's over, we're going to Hawthorne—me and David, that is. Victoria is spending Christmas in London this year because she has to do something with her parents on Christmas Eve. David said he wants to take me to Hawthorne (for some strange reason, people here give their houses names) because it's prettier there and he doesn't think I'd have as good a time if we stayed here. We won't be spending the day alone, though. He's arranged for us to have dinner with some friends of his. We'll take all the presents to the country with us so there will be something to open on Christmas morning. You should see how many have my name on them. (Did you find the ones I left under the tree for you?)

I won't get to practice driving this trip because Harold has to stay in London to take Victoria around and to be with his family, but David promised that if Harold doesn't come next time, he'll teach me how to drive the Mercedes himself.

A log fell forward in the fireplace behind Carly. She got up to push it back and to check that no sparks had escaped through the screen. The activity provided enough break to let Andrea's words hit with their full impact.

What in God's name were Shawn and Eric going to think when they read their sister's letter? New clothes, parties, a country home, learning to drive in a Mercedes? Carly couldn't decide how much of what Andrea was reporting was calculated, and how much ingenuous.

Either way, it was hard to keep her anger in check.

Dad, you wouldn't believe what the streets are like over here. As much as you hate driving in a city like Cleveland, you'd go crazy trying to find your way around London. The streets change names right in the middle, and not just once or twice, but lots of times. Even when I learn to drive, David said he won't let me have a car in London. He's going to teach me how to use the Underground to get back and forth to school when Harold can't take me in the Bentley.

I've got to go now. David is taking me to see
Les Miserables.
You
know
how much I loved the movie. Since I want to be an actor someday, he thinks it's a good idea for me to see some really good plays and musicals, and since all of the best ones are coming from here now, I'll get a chance to see them before they get to the States.

Give Muffin a big hug and tell her I miss her,

Andrea

Carly closed her eyes against the outrage that gripped her. All of Andrea's love and affection sent to the dog, and none for her family. She refolded the letter and stuffed it in the pocket of her slacks, no longer wondering whether or not Andrea was still striking out. Not for a minute did Carly question that everything Andrea wrote was true; the doubt entered over the breezy enjoyment.

She decided not to show the letter to Ethan right away. He wouldn't read between the lines and see the lonely, frightened girl behind the bravado. Instead, he would joyfully point out how obviously happy and well-adjusted Andrea was in her new home and how wise they had been to let her go.

Shawn and Eric would be jealous and hurt and not understand either emotion. Carly could hardly expect them to take this latest hit and keep smiling when she was having trouble getting through it herself.

She got up to throw the courier envelope into the fire when the package that had been inside fell to the floor. She bent to pick it up and saw that there was a small tag attached to the bow. Her name was written inside the tag in tiny block letters too small for her to be able to tell who had written it.

Carly released the tape and spread the paper. A brilliantly colored silk scarf slipped out of her hand and landed at her feet. She froze when she saw the designer name written in the corner. Hermès.

David.

The present was his doing, not Andrea's. The weight of disappointment bore down on Carly, stealing her brief moment of happiness. It all made sense now. Andrea would never have asked David for the money to buy anything so expensive and she sure as hell didn't have enough to buy it on her own. Andrea hadn't bought the present, nor had she been the one who'd arranged for a courier service to make sure her letter arrived in time for Christmas. It had all been David's doing.